Bridget of the Revolution
by kionforever89
Summary: Bridget doesn't act the other colonial girls. Instead, she rides horses like men do, climb trees, play archery, fight very well(with swords, daggers, and body)She can even shoot a pistol! Quite an adventurer, she, Moses, James, Henri, and Sarah work in the printing shop but travel because of the American Revolution. With her friends by her side, Bridget can handle anything. R&R!
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: Liberty Kids is produced by DIC. I own Bridget, Anna, and Andrew. I am sorry to say I do not know who actually owns Liberty Kids._

The Boston Tea Party

"James! Moses!" Henri and I cried as we sprinted through the printing shop door, me holding a letter.

"It's from Dr. Franklin," I said.

"Give me that Bridget," James said, trying to grab the letter out of my hands. Because I had breeches on, my legs slid easily to the other side.

"Uh uh, it's addressed to Moses. You look like James," I said smirking.

"And you look like someone's dessert I'm going to eat tonight," James said.

"Lay off you two," Moses said. He took the letter and read it.

"Well, what does it say?" Henri asked.

"It turns out Sarah Phillips isn't coming to Philadelphia," Moses reported. James folded his arms.

"Good, I never understood why she had to come here anyway," he said. Moses threw James his coat. "Fetch your coats. We're going to meet her at the ships."

"I thought you just said she isn't coming to Philadelphia," James asked confused.

"She's not. Dr. Franklin said Ms. Phillips couldn't make passage on the Dope. She's on the Dartmouth, and the Dartmouth is heading for Boston," Moses explained as he put on his coat and headed for the door. Henri and I already had our coats on.

"Boston?" I asked, "but Boston's all the way in Massachusetts Bay Colony."

"Right, and there's been trouble up there. Let's go."

Moses's horse drove us through the darkened streets of Boston. The only lights were the stars and the streetlamps. The shadows caused an eerie disturbance in the air. I shuddered and slid down next to Henri, who was complaining about his aching joints. I settled back,but stood up quickly when I heard a noise. My lessons with my mother were coming back as I took a quick look around.

"Oh Moses, why are we stopping-" Henri exclaimed, but was stopped abruptly by Moses, who had also heard the noise. Shadows of Mohawk Indians danced along the walls. All of us quickly ducked down.

"Indians! James, Bridget, Moses, Indians!" Henri whispered in fear. He grabbed my coat sleeve. Easing him off gently, I sneaked a glance at the Indians.

"Wait a minute, Mohawks with blonde hair and white skin?" I said, "something's not right."

"It's a story," James cut in, "let's see where they lead us." Moses nodded and flicked the reins.

The "Indians" led us all the way to the Boston Harbor. The band jumped into rowboats and rowed to the British ships. One of the ships was the Dartmouth.

"They're heading for the Dartmouth," I pointed out.

"We've got to find Ms. Phillips- fast," Moses said. He started running toward the dock. I grabbed Henri's hand and followed James and Moses.

We were lucky to not get hit by the barrels and boxes of tea as the men threw them overboard. I grabbed the edges of the boat and tried not to get seasick, which I was doing horribly at. James stood up. "You get Ms. Phillips, I'm going to get a story." Then he climbed the ladder.

"I'm coming too!" I cried. Moses tried to protest, but I cut him off. "I need an adventure." I smiled and climbed the ladder, barely missing the crates. Finally I jumped over the ladder opening and stood behind James as he talked the man who was clearly in charge.

"You're Samuel Adams aren't you?" I asked, making them both jump.

"How did you...?" the man asked. James tried to look mad, but the smile took it away.

"I'm a phantom," I explained quickly, smiling. "But back to the point. You're the leader of the Sons of Liberty."

"That is correct miss," Samuel Adams said. "The taxation is getting uncontrollable. Parliament raised the tea tax over our objection! Maybe next time they'll listen." A man let out a yell as his axe sinks into a crate of tea. I cringe inwardly. Henri threw some small tea sacks.

"No taxation without representation!" he yelled. James turned him around by the shoulder.

"Do you know what that means?"

"No, but I know the others are saying it," Henri said, smiling.

"It means we stumbled on the story of a lifetime!" James said, jumping up and down. "I'm going below deck to see what's happening!" He ran off, leaving us with the Sons of Liberty. I grinned and threw a bundle of tea into the sea.

"Take that Parliament!" I yelled and banged my fist.

Moses ran toward us. "There you are! Where's James?"

"He went below deck," I told him. "Something about a story being written."

"Come on, we have to find him!" Moses shouted.

"Why?" Henri whined. I looked toward the horizon and gasped.

"That's why!" I said. British warships were coming toward us. Redcoats were on every inch of the boat. Moses ran below deck, leaving me to keep watch.

As the soldiers drew near, I sprinted down the stairs to face Moses, a girl with red hair and a dress which I presumed was Sarah Phillips, and James holding onto her elbow.

"The British are almost here! We have to hurry!" I ran back up, quickly followed by the rest, Sarah protesting all the way. We ran down the dock and hid behind a building.

"Is everyone okay?" Moses asked.

"That was fun," Henri said. I nodded.

"This is great!" James said, "this makes headline news!" Moses shushed him. Sarah walked past them and yelled for help. James put a hand over her mouth. "Are you crazy? You want the British to catch us?"

"I am British!" Sarah protested. "We're all British!"

"Right now the British thinks we're criminals," Moses said. Sarah's face became disappointed.

"Criminals?! What did we do wrong?" James asked.

"We were in the wrong place at the wrong time," Moses explained. "The wagon's over there. Let's hurry."

Thankfully, the British hadn't seen me, so I was safe to be up with Moses as he reined the horse. James, Sarah, and Henri were sitting down with blankets across their waists.

"The British will recognize you," I explained, "but to Moses, he'll be a faithful servant, and to me, just a girl tagging along for a ride." I turned back to the road and listened to Sarah and James discussing about the laws. I rolled my eyes, but they widened when I spotted someone. I tugged Moses's sleeve.

"Quick, get down! It's the constable. Stay still, or it's jail for us all," he warned. Sarah and the boys rustled as they hid under the blankets. Part of Sarah's hair was showing, so I bent down and pulled the blanket over it. Now, they were all hidden. Moses yielded when the constable hailed him to stop.

"Hello Constable, fine night," I said cheerfully.

"Fine night for troublemakers," the man said. "State your business."

"We're just bringing freshly quartered hogs to the Wheatley residence," Moses lied. The constable raised an eyebrow.

"And what's a girl like yourself doing in the middle of the night," he asked me.

"I hate being home alone at nighttime so I'm riding with my friend," I explained, lying as well. The constable nodded at me, and I let an inward sigh of relief.

"I'll have myself a look at your hogs," the man said. He walked to the back where the others lay hidden.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Moses warned. "Nasty looking hogs, and do they smell!" I wrinkled my nose to give some evidence. The man took a whiff, recoiled, and let us go. I breathed a sigh of relief. We finally got to our destination and Sarah, James, and Henri jumped off. We walked to the back. Moses knocked and a black woman opened the door.

"Ms. Wheatley? We need your help," Moses said.

"And we're hungry," Henri said. The woman looked both ways on the street.

"There's a stable out on back, but hurry, my masters are still asleep," Phillis Wheatley said.

"You're a slave?" Sarah asked, clearly shocked.

"When I was 8 years old," Phillis began, "I was kidnapped from my home in West Africa and put on a slave ship. The Wheatleys paid for me at an auction and took me home. Mrs. Wheatley helped me how to read. Not just English, but Latin and Greek."

"Please go on," Sarah encouraged.

"Well, a few years ago, Mrs. Wheatley urged me to write poetry. And soon thereafter, my first book was published. I got good responses in England, but few copies were sold here.

"That's not surprising," Sarah said, "and maybe you should've sold pictures."

"The Wheatleys have helped me greatly, they've sent me to London."

"But I don't understand," Sarah said, "you're still a slave!" I folded my arms.

"Yeah if the Wheatleys have helped you so much and you published, why haven't they set you free," I retorted. Sarah nodded.

"My situation is very different than most," Phillis said, looking at Moses, then at us. "The Wheatleys and I belong to the old South church. It is our hope that white people will abolish slavery." Sarah and I smiled at this.

"Quickly now, get in the stables while I get you some food," Phillis said as she closed the door.

Inside the stable, Moses was working on the wagon as I sat on a pile of hay and flipped my small dagger in the air. Sarah watched in half awe and disapproval, but more in awe. We smiled at each other. Moses grunted as he fixed the wagon on the big crate.

"I'll never get this wagon going on time," Moses complained, "the axles' all messed up."

"That's all right. I'd like to stay around Boston more, there's a story and the action is all here," James said.

"Me too," Henri said, chewing on a drumstick. "If Ms. Wheatley can write as good as she cooks, she must be another Shakespeare." He reached his hand toward James's plate of food. However, James noticed, and he slapped his hand away. Henri frowned as he rubbed his hand.

"How can somebody like Phillis Wheatley be somebody's property," Sarah brought up. "It's outrageous! Am I the only one who sees this?"

"Not everyone in the colonies believes in slavery Sarah," James explained wearily.

"Freedom is priceless," Moses said. "I should know, I was born free- in West Africa. When I was little more than Henri here, my brother and I were captured and chained to the deck of slave ship."

"That's terrible Moses, how did you escape?" Sarah questioned.

"I escaped by using my head and my hands," Moses said. "I learned smiting which was a valuable thing to learn. My master loaned me out for odd jobs here and there, and sometimes I was given silver coins for my services. And I earned enough coins; I bought my freedom back. I went to Philadelphia; there I learned to read and write." I listened solemnly to this true story, and the others were on edge listening too. "I was offered a job by Dr. Franklin, a man who hated slavery as much as I do."

"But Moses," Sarah said, "how can you support those rebels? In England, slavery is dying, but here, it's thriving."

"I believe America's struggle is like my own," Moses said as he hammered on the axle. "They are fighting a master they don't want, and I will not duck." Sarah gasped which I didn't understand. It made perfect sense to me. King George the third beating my country down with those taxes. "It's getting late, we should get some sleep. Goodnight all." he blew out the lantern. James and Henri went up to the loft. I stayed down and settled on my hay. I slept sweet dreams with my family.

The next morning, I was roused by Sarah scribbling on paper. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and quietly looked over her shoulder.

"Writing to your mother huh?" I asked and she jumped.

"Oh Bridget, I-I didn't see you get up," she said. I shrugged and sat next to her.

"I'm an early bird."

"I miss Mother and Father so terribly," Sarah said.

"Where are they?" I asked.

"Father is a major in the royal army who's been sent to the Ohio Valley, and Mother is a Lady in London, England. We haven't heard from Father in a long time and I fear for him," Sarah said, bowing her head. I smiled sympathetically at her.

"I miss my parents too," I admitted. "I was born in the New Hampshire Grants in the wilderness, so I don't really dress in dresses. More like breeches and shirts. My father, Andrew Allen, served in the French and Indian War, and he was so good, he rose quickly in ranks. Next to the major Washington himself." I chuckled. "During the war, he met my mother, Anne, a woman who brought supplies. Anne was tough and she wasn't afraid of anything, and he liked that. They fell in love and got married, then had me. I had a fine education and I learned everything about survival. I can hunt, ride horses(I'm a very good rider. Hopefully you'll see), play archery, wield swords and daggers, just about anything a girl's not supposed to do in today's world. And my parents supported me. We were so happy together. And then, it happened." My face fell. "When I was 7, a terrible storm brought a visit to New Hampshire. Our property was in entire lock-down. We were prepared and brought supplies, and stayed inside. The storm was almost over, but a branch had fallen and broke through the fence holding the goats. My father saw and he wanted to go get them, but my mother said it was too dangerous. He didn't listen and ran outside. I followed because I wanted to see what he would do. When dad reached the huge oak tree, lightning caused it to snap in half. The last thing I remembered was the trunk coming onto my father and me falling unconscious. It was 6 years ago, but I still remember."

"That's horrible Bridget," Sarah cried and hugged me. I hugged back.

"Yeah well I still have his memory and my mother and my uncle," I said, smiling.

"Who's your uncle?" Sarah asked. I grinned.

"Ethan Allen."


	2. The Intolerable Acts

_Not every episode will be exact. Just to warn you. :I_

 _Disclaimer: Liberty Kids is produced by DIC._

The Intolerable Acts

In the stables of the Wheatley residence, James and I were grooming Dr. Franklin's horse,Caesar. Henri was kicking a stone to relieve his boredom, and Sarah was writing a letter to her mother again. Grooming Caesar, I sighed deeply. James noticed my face.

"What's wrong Bridge?" he asked, using my playful nickname.

"Oh, I miss my horse Wisdom," I said.

"You have a horse?" Sarah asked, looking up from her letter. James and I nodded.

"She does. I swear that horse has a mind of its own," James said. I swatted his hand using the brush.

"Wisdom _does_ have a mind of her own," I said fiercely, "that's why she's so intelligent!" Sarah laughed.

"What are we talking about?" Henri questioned. We all laughed. Phillis Wheatley came in holding a breakfast tray. She smiled at us. Henri had now taken over of grooming, but Caesar whinnied angrily at him. "Okay, okay. Sorry Caesar." I rolled my eyes and took the reins to calm the horse. James pushed Henri away and grabbed the brush.

"Allow me," he said. Henri stomped his foot and stormed away. I chuckled and rubbed Caesar's nose.

"Tell me more about your horse Bridget," Sarah asked putting her quill down.

"Well, Wisdom is an intelligent horse, from the day she arrived into this world," I began. "After she got milk from Sky(her mother) she nodded and tilted her head toward me, and I took it. Something really clicked between us. That's why I named her Wisdom; she's also my best friend. She is super fast and knows how to run in woodland area."

"I thought I was your best friend," Henri whined. I laughed and ruffled his hair.

"Of course you are! Wisdom and I just fight like best friends."

"A wise horse," James said sarcastically. I punched him on the shoulder.

"Once James called my horse a donkey, so Wisdom gave him a donkey!" I said, laughing. "She made herself look and sound like a donkey, much to the embarrassment to our journalist!" Sarah laughed too. James turned bright red and muttered under his breath.

At the Boston harbor, the boys and I spied on the Redcoats. James was holding Henri by the feet, so Henri could see over the tower f crates. I was standing nearby, keeping watch and ready to catch a body if one of them fell.

"How many do you see Henri?" James grunted.

" _un, deux, trois,_ " Henri counted in French.

"English, Henri, not French," James said annoyed.

"I'm counting in English- whoa!" James sidestepped to maintain balance. Henri waved his arms and grabbed the crates.

"How many are there now?" I called up.

"Too many," Henri said. James and I glanced at each other worriedly. "There's not a soldier left in England." I looked over the crates and saw that he was right. At least 10 British soldiers were coming down the ships and more on the docks.

"Probably sent by King George himself," I said bitterly.

"What should we do?" Henri asked.

" _What should we do?_ " James repeated disbelievingly. Henri jumped down, and I steadied him. "The British are occupying Boston! I've gotta get this to the Gazette right away! Come on Henri, Bridget!" We ran toward the stables to tell Moses our discovery.

British soldiers were at every corner, on every road while we were running. Bostonian men were glaring and acting like they were preparing for a fight. The soldiers tightened their grip on their rifles and kept a sharp eye. I prayed no one would stop and interrogate us.

"Boston harbor's closed!" James shouted as we burst through the stable door. "Hundreds of new soldiers arrived by ship this morning."

"The whole city is filled with Redcoats!" Henri panted and then gasped. I gasped too. Redcoats were in this stable. A whole bunch! My mouth opened and closed like a fish.

"What-who-how-why-where-when?" I struggled to say.

"Would you _please m_ ind your tongue?" Sarah scolded us. James ignored her and clambered up the ladder.

"Where's my pencil? I've got a story to write," James said. "This is headline news!" He climbed down.

Moses cleared his throat, a warning tone in his face and voice. "Uh, _James_?" James ignored him too.

"Those filthy Redcoats are everywhere!" He sat on the table.

"That's right James," Sarah said, holding a British coat. "After their long sea voyage, those lovely Redcoats need a good cleaning." She smiled widely. James scowled at the room. A British soldier who looked maybe 35 walked up to me and handed me his coat.

"Will you clean this please?" he asked me.

"Of course sir!" I responded graciously. "When would you like it back?"

"About the end of the day miss."

"Certainly." I set to my job. James gasped like he just realized the soldiers were here.

"And this may need some soap and water," Sarah said, gesturing to the coat.

"Let me help you Ms. Phillips," James said flatly.

Meanwhile, I had just finished washing the coat. The soldier took it and his eyes widened.

"How did you do that?" he asked me.

"Oh you know, a little bit of this, a little bit of that," I said modestly. The other soldiers felt the coat and gasped.

"Will you do mine?"

"Will you do mine?"

"Do mine first!"

"I asked first!"

"Gentlemen please," I said. "I can only do so much at once. Well I can do 2," I said. I grabbed two coats from the nearest men and started soaping.

"How does she do that?" Sarah whispered to James. He shrugged. While he and Sarah were cleaning, a British soldier walked up to them.

"Fine morning, isn't it?" James asked pleasantly. The soldier scowled and snatched the coat from under James's hands.

"Looks like you could use soap and water too, the way you use that smart mouth of yours," he said.

"You're absolutely-right," James said. "You'll have to forgive my manners. I'm an orphan and was raised on the streets. I sometimes forget my place."

"Where's that crop I was promised," the soldier demanded. So rude, I thought.

"I'll check on it right away sir," Sarah curtsied. "Why don't _you_ come give me a hand in the kitchen," she asked James.

"The kitchen? But that's woman's work," James said, wrinkling his nose. Then he flinched. I smirked. Sarah must have given him a good kick. "Oh yeah, sure." I finished my work and followed them.

"What are British Redcoats doing in the barn?" James asked.

"It's called Quartering," Phillis explained. "Soldiers knock on your door, every day and night and moves into your house. There are five more upstairs." I scowled and wrinkled my nose.

"I just can't believe King George would do this," Sarah said. She put a fresh pie on the table; Henri took a glance around and sneaked it away. I followed him, wanting to share in the pie too.

"It was Parliament's doing; they call it the Coercive Acts," Phillis said.

"The Intolerable Acts is more like it," Moses said, leaning against the wall with his arms folded.

"This is an outrage," James said angrily.

"That's right. We have to feed them, wash for them, and they don't have to pay a shilling!" Phillis said angrily.

"I am outraged too," I said with a mouthful of pie.

"Yeah, this pie was too small," Henri complained.

"Agreed, I could eat this in one bite," I whined.

"You are the funny ones, aren't you?" Phillis asked. I nodded. "How did you come to be in the colonies.

"Well, I was born in the New Hampshire Grants in the wilderness, then I moved here to Philadelphia because my mother was born here. She wanted me to get out of the woods and take a glance of city life."

"Do you like it?"

"Oh, I love it!"

"It's Bridget Allen right?" Phillis asked.

"Yes ma'am," I answered.

"I knew your father though I haven't talked to him face to face," Phillis said.

"Really? Oh really? You met my father?" I asked, my face lit up.

"Yes, during the French and Indian War, my master was a sergeant, and he hosted a dinner in victory of Fort Duquesne. Your father and Major Washington were there," Phillis said. I sat back in my seat.

"Wow, oh wow," I stammered.

"He was a brave man, Phillis said. "What about you Henri?"

"I came here with my parents," Henri said. Then he sat quiet.

"Henri was six years old when he came from France with his parents," Moses told the story. "They signed an agreement with the ship's captain to work for seven years in exchange for their passage. Three weeks into the journey, the plague got onto the ship." Henri sat glumly in his seat, rethinking the things he had gone through. "Half the people on-board died, including Henri's parents."

"The captain made me his cabin boy," Henri continued. "He said I had to pay off my family's passage. I had to work all the time; cleaning his room, getting him food, clothes, buckets of water. And if I did anything wrong, he'd throw me in the ward for hours." He glanced up bitterly at us.

"How dare he!" Sarah exclaimed, putting her arm around his shoulders. I gave him a quick hug.

"I belonged to him," Henri said sadly.

"You mean he made you-" Sarah began.

"-A slave," Phillis finished.

"Henri that's terrible," Sarah said. "Thank heavens you're here now. How did you do it?"

"Moses and I went to the docks to pick up some parts for our printing press that have come from France," James explained.

"You and Moses.."

"I wasn't there during the rescue mission, I arrived two years later," I told her.

"We went to to the deck to get the parts," James continued. "There was Henri, on the floor, behind bars."

"I thought they came to hurt me."

"But Moses got him out with a handle of the printing press," James said. "It was amazing!"

"It was just what needed to be done," Moses said.

"But how did how did you get him off the ship?" Sarah asked.

"We found the crate of parts," James said. "Moses took them out, hid them under straws, and laid Henri over it. Then we carried off the ship."

"Right under the captain's nose?"

"Right under the captain's nose," James confirmed, "but we had to wait another month to get the printing parts." He ruffled Henri's hair. "I'm still not sure it was a good trick." We all laughed. "Then I wrote to Dr. Franklin, asking him to allow Henri to work in the printing press, to pay for his room and board."

"But then he did something very bad," Henri said.

"What?" Phillis asked.

"He taught me how to read and write English," Henri whimpered. We laughed at this.

After getting directions from Phillis, the boys, Sarah and I were knocking at Mr. Maloney's door, a printer.

"Tom Maloney, are you in there?" James called. "Open up, we're friends of Phillis Wheatley!"

"I don't think he's in here," I said, me and Henri looking through the dark windows.

"Today's the Sabbath," James said.

"The Lord's Day," Henri said.

"And if you help the Lord, the Lord helps you," James said, holding the key. He opened the door to the shop. "Ladies first."

"At last," Sarah said, "a sign of manners." She entered the building. I followed, then Henri, then James. James closed the door quickly behind him and drew the curtains.

"Redcoats! We'll have to work fast," he said.

We were printing well in the shop, stacks and stacks of propaganda. I was handling the printing, and Henri was stacking. Sarah and James were discussing. James had told Sarah about the death of his parents in a fire, but I knew already so I didn't listen.

"Oh look at me, complaining about a silly locket when you lost so much," Sarah said.

"That locket really means that much to you," James said.

"My father gave it to me," Sarah explained. "When I wear it around my neck, I'm always reminded of him near me." She touched her bare neck. "He went up the Ohio River to explore new lands. Mother and I haven't heard from him since. I pray he's alright."

"See this," James showed her his gold ring.

"It's beautiful," Sarah said.

"It's my mother's ring," James said. "I know just how you feel about your locket."

"James!" I called.

"We're done!" Henri said. I had an ink blotch on my nose and Henri was leaning against a tall stack of propaganda.

"Grab a stack you two, it's time to go," James said.

"Must you do this?" Sarah asked. "You'll only make things worse."

"I have to," James said.

"Why?"

"Because as Dr. Franklin's friend, Edmund Burke said, 'an Englishman is an unfitted person on Earth, and too another Englishman into slavery."

We ran everywhere in the city stamping a propaganda on every tree, every fence, to every person who did not support Great Britain. When I was empty-handed, I looked for a sign of one of my friends.

"Run!" Henri's voice cried. I turned to see each of the boys grab my elbows and drag me along with them.

"Alright, what's going on?" I shouted angrily.

"That!" James yelled. I looked.

"Yeow!" I screamed. Redcoats on horses were chasing after us. I turned around and ran as fast as I could, which was pretty fast. I raced along the windows with the boys right behind me. "I wish I had Wisdom here," I thought. Then I spotted three empty barrels. I pulled the boys to a stop and motioned to the barrels. We jumped in as the British ran past.

"What do we do now?" Henri asked. I shrugged.

"We pray Moses has that axle fixed," James said. "Henri, Bridget, I think we may have overstayed our visit at Boston."

"I agree," I said.

"How do we get past those Redcoats," Henri asked.

"Hmm," James said. "I wonder..." I grinned.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" I asked.

"Yup," James said.

"What?" Henri questioned.

"You'll see."

"Look out! Runaway barrels!" A Redcoat shouted. Three barrels rolled down the street at a lightning round, bumping at every small crack and bump. They crashed into a shop and broke, 3 children-1 girl and 2 boys- tumbled on the remains.

"Are you two alright?" James asked.

"Which one of you said that?" Henri inquired.

"Mummy, there's not going to be a king of this country, instead a president will rule in democracy!" I cried, stood up, then fell on my bottom. "Look, Boston city is falling down!"

"At least one of us is," James sighed. Sarah opened the door.

"James, Henri, Bridget, are you alright?" she asked.

"Whoa!" Moses said as he pulled Caesar to a stop. Phillis Wheatley was beside him. "Quick, we have to get out of here!"

"Look!" Phillis cried. "Too late!" My heart sank and I grabbed Sarah's arm. She squeezed my shoulder reassuringly. British Redcoats had just rounded the corner and spotted us.

"That's it," I said. "We're dead. I might as well be thanking everyone for my life." I shook Sarah's hand.

"Nice knowing you."

"So long James."

"Bye bye Henri."

"Oh stop overreacting," Sarah scolded me.

"Points for trying," I told Henri. He looked at me confused.

"Everybody inside," Sarah ordered. We all went inside.

"The wagon is as good as new," Moses said. "We must leave town right now while it's still dark." Suddenly, British Redcoats kicked the door open and crowded in.

"That's it. Goodbye friends," I said. Then I walked to the British captain who was sneering at the group. "If you will jail me, jail me in style." I fell backward and one of the soldiers caught me. "Careful men, I'm a star." The soldiers shrugged at each other.

"My men and I have been riding past this print shop when I hear voices coming from inside," the captain stated. "So I ask myself, what would someone be doing inside a print shop at this hour, on a Sunday." James and Sarah glanced at each other, worry in their eyes. I had pushed myself upright and walked past the captain who hadn't paid me mind. He was still staring at the group. The captain leaned forward on James.

"Do you know what I told myself?" he asked James. James shook his head. "I said printing these." He held up the propaganda. My eyes widened. Pine needles, I thought.

"You have it all wrong sir," Phillis cut in, saving James from answering. "These gentlemen are interested in my poetry. They wanted to it published."

"Poetry?!" the soldier exclaimed. "You? What do you take me for?"

"Show them Phillis," Moses said.

"Yes," sneered the soldier who had caught me. "Let's hear this poetry of yours."

Phillis stood up tall and recited:

 _Descend to Earth, there place thy throne,_

 _To suffer Man's conflicted son,_

 _Each human heart inspire_

 _To act in bounty's unconfined_

 _Large to close contracted mind_

 _And fill it with thine fire_

Phillis ended her poem with a strong jaw. I marveled at the strength of her words. "Beautiful, isn't it?" I said to no one. They ignored me. Of course.

"Right," the captain said, "so you're a poet. But I still believe these runts have something to do about spreading rebellion." He looked at us.

"Who, me?" I said feigning shocked.

"No, not you," the captain said, dismissing the subject. "I doubt you'd have anything to do about it, though why the breeches...?"

"A little missy like you shouldn't be wearing those.

"My father was an officer in the war sir," I said coldly. "My name is Bridget Allen. _Andrew_ Allen was my father. So you could try for a little respect." The soldiers gasped.

"Andrew Allen? I knew your father well though I didn't serve under him," the captain said. "Major Allen, correct?"

"Yes sir."

."Yes well, tear the place apart!" his tone suddenly became serious. "If I find so much as one poster, it's jail for the lot of you! You."

"Me?" Sarah asked. The soldier walked toward her.

"What's your name?"

"Sarah Phillips sir," Sarah answered.

"Sarah Phillips, eh? I served under your father during the French and Indian War," the captain said.

"Major Phillips is my father sir," Sarah said smiling.

"Is that so?" the captain said, peering at James. James glared back. "Then you're an Englishwoman Miss Phillips, and it is your duty to tell me who made these posters. Your father would expect you to tell the truth to an officer serving under the King." We looked at Sarah, praying she would stay true to her friends and not put us in jail. _Please Sarah, please,_ I thought.

"I-I-I..." Sarah spluttered.

"Spill it girl," the captain said. Sarah's eyes drifted the room then landed on a spot under the stove. I followed her gaze. A Parliament poster was on the floor just within sights of the soldiers' eyes. I caught her look and widened my eyes. "We're waiting."

"Oh, where are my manners?" Sarah exclaimed. She walked to the stove. "You must be half frozen riding in this weather." Hiding the view, she crumpled the poster and threw it in the fire. "There the fire's all ready. You'll have hot tea in half a second. Now what was that you were saying? Something about posters?"

The captain's eyes narrowed.

"There's nothing lieutenant," a soldier said. So he wasn't a captain. "No sign of posters."

"Augh, I don't have time for this," the lieutenant exclaimed. "Come on men, those rabble- rousers are off getting away while we're talking to children and poets and tea!" He stomped off, the soldiers after him.

"Quick, to the wagon before they come back!" Phillis said.

"Ms. Phillips," Moses said, "how can we ever thank you enough?"

"You keep fighting for freedom, that's how," Phillis said. "Now go. I'll keep watch until you're safely gone."

Moses stood up front guiding the horse through the night. I sat next to James and the others.

"Thank you," James said.

"For what?" Sarah asked.

"You know," I chided her playfully. Sarah smoothed the hair of a sleeping Henri.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Sure you do. You saved our hides," James said. Sarah smiled.

"James, I'm very tired and I'm cold," Sarah excused herself. James took his coat off and put it around her. I rolled my eyes and smirked. "I'm going to make a gentlemen out of you yet."

"And I'm going to make an American out of you," James said. The rest of the night passed peacefully and uneventfully.

Back in Philadelphia, I walked down the familiar pavement of what I like to call my second home. A few pedestrians waved and greeted me. I greeted them back. Stopping at my friend the bookkeeper, I bought a book called Robinson Crusoe. My mother's sister recommended it for me when I was 10, but now I'm 13, so I decided to read it. I thanked him and walked to the printing shop. When I walked in, Sarah was smiling and holding something golden to her neck.

"You gave her your ring?" I asked James. He nodded. I smiled and patted his shoulder. My head reached the top of his ears, so I could reach him just fine.

"It's the most greatest treasure I ever received!" Sarah exclaimed.


	3. United We Stand

_Disclaimer: Liberty's Kids is produced by DIC._

United We Stand

Moses and I walked down the busy street of Philadelphia. It felt so good to be back home that I instantly started saying hi to everyone we knew or didn't knew. A sailor approached us carrying a bulky sack of items. We were too polite to question the sack so we just greeted one another.

"Excuse me do you know where the marketplace is?" the man asked.

"You just take a left at this street corner and keep going straight," Moses directed him. "You can't miss it."

"And if you're not too busy, make sure to pass by the Eternal Spring," I told him.

"Huh?"

"She means the little spot not far from here," Moses explained.

"Yeah! It's so beautiful that even in Winter, it seems like Spring is still there," I said eagerly. The sailor smiled.

"I'll have to go and draw it," he said.

"You're an artist?" I asked. He nodded. I grabbed his arm. "You must show me them when we meet again," I said. "Please!"

"I promise," the man said, laughing. We said our goodbyes and continued on our paths.

"He's pleasant," I told Moses. He laughed and ruffled my hair.

We walked into the printing shop, Moses and I carrying boxes. Sarah was writing another letter to her mother, and James and Henri were setting up the printer. I was just placing the box down when Tom, my late father's friend came through the door.

"Tom!" I shouted, crashing into his chest. We both laughed and he spun me around. Henri hugged Tom too.

"Well howdy, little Bridget; and Henri" Tom said in his Southern accent. He was from South Carolina. "You've grown mighty big!"

"You've only just seen us one month ago," I said. Moses shook hands with Tom.

"Great to see you again Tom," Moses said.

"Yeah. We've been waiting for this day," James said smiling.

"Great to see you too, fellas," Tom said. "And who's the lovely lady?"

Sarah got up and curtsied.

"Sarah Phillips, sir," she introduced.

"Pleasure to meet you Ms. Philips," Tom said.

"So what's new today Tommy?" I asked him.

"Just some letters and journals describing what your mother and uncle are doing," Tom said. He handed me his bag. "And- a friend." His eyes twinkled.

Suspicious, I walked outside, and I gasped.

"Wisdom! Oh Wisdom you miraculous horse!" I said. My white horse, Wisdom, of whom I have raised since I was a child, was standing at the shop with Tom's horse beside her. I rushed toward her and hugged her. In her spectacular way, Wisdom hugged me back. "I've missed you so much!"

"Wisdom!" Henri cried. He too hugged her.

"So this is the famous Wisdom," Sarah said. She and Moses had stood in the doorway.

"Yup," I said, "and she's here to stay." I kissed her on the nose.

"Well, I best be off now," Tom said.

"Are you sure you don't want anything to eat after the journey?" Sarah asked him.

"I'm pretty sure Miss," Tom assured her. "Good seeing you boys." I hugged him and waved him off.

"She's a beautiful horse Bridget," Sarah said. Wisdom nickered with pleasure.

"Thank you," I said. "Come Wisdom, let's go see Caesar." I led her to the back stables, where she and Caesar had a happy reunion. Then I went back to the printing shop.

"By giving Canada the Ohio River Valley," James said as I walked in, "the lives lost 11 years ago during the French and Indian War have been lost for nothing." Sarah looked up to where she was sitting, the quill in her hand.

"But Parliament's demand of Boston paying for destroying the tea crates are perfectly reasonable," Sarah calmly protested.

"But tax is not reasonable," James argued, "only a Tory would think so." He folded his arms.

Henri swung from the printing press bars. "I thought Tory was a country. Like you know if a person was a Tory, they would be from Tory. Like a New Yorker is from New York" I laughed.

"Sarah's not a Tory," Moses said, smiling. Hearing voices, I popped my head out and saw Samuel and John Adams talking.

"You're right of course," John Adams was saying. "But we must get these pamphlets into Boston- we must!"

"You gentlemen make it sound like a way of agreeing instead of arguing," Moses said. I jumped back in shock. When did he get here?

The Adams cousins smiled when they saw him.

"Your pamphlets are nearly done," I said and invited them in.

"Sarah, Henri, James, Bridget?" Moses said. "You remember Mr. Samuel Adams?"

"Yes sir," James said eagerly. "We were there in Boston the night of the tea party."

"A most splendid protest," Samuel Adams said. "The people should never rise up without doing something worth remembering." He took a pamphlet.

"And this is Mr. John Adams," Moses introduced the other man.

"The same John Adams who defended the British troops who fired on our Patriots in the Boston Massacre?" James said, folding his arms. I scowled at him and mouthed _Don't be rude_.

"James, that was many years ago," Moses reprimanded.

"No Moses the lad is right," John Adams said. "I did defend the British soldiers, and they were found not guilty for a good reason: and they weren't guilty."

"And our Patriots were? They simply stood up for what they believe?" James said.

"I think it was very brave of you Mr. Adams," Sarah spoke up, "to defend unpopular men in the midst of friends and neighbors who wanted to see them punished."

"I had justice on my side," John Adams said, "the so-called massacre were not Patriots. They were a drunken mob spoiling for a fight." He looked James fully in the eyes. "It was a case of self defense. Facts can be a stubborn thing."

James folded his arms. "If I had been there, I would've been with the Patriots."

"Son, I admire your heart, but you must learn to distinguish between a patriotic act of protest and mob rule," John Adams told him. "A tyranny of the people can be brutal as they tyranny of the crown."

"The pamphlet is good, John," Samuel Adams said. I guess he hadn't been listening to a word John and James were saying. "Now only a way to get them into Boston."

"How about you James?" John Adams asked. "Years of patriotic act: get these to my wife Abigail."

"I would," James said, "but I've agreed to assist the scribes in Congress."

"Since the harbor's closed, British troops control the roads stopping and searching any carriage, there will be danger," Samuel Adams said.

"Abigail will be in the convoy well outside Boston," John assured him. "Their danger will be limited."

"I'll go," Sarah spoke up.

"You?" James argued. "You don't even believe in our cause."

"Maybe not, but I believe in an adventure," Sarah said. "I could take Henri with me; no one would suspect a thing!"

"Sarah is right, and Henri is a stout able young man. How about you Bridget?" Moses asked me.

"I would like too, but I want to be able to read the stuff happening in the Grants," I said, pointing to the bag Tom left me, "and I want to ride Wisdom, but if anything exciting occurs, I want to be the first to know."

"Alright, and you Henri?"

Henri looked up from his swing and fell to the floor with a big "Oomph!"

"It's settled then," John Adams said. "I'll notify Abigail soon." He and his cousin left the shop.

"You have to learn to be aggressive if you want to be a journalist," James told Sarah, who looked at him angrily. We were walking down the street in the dark pushing a wagon. Henri was in the wagon. James was pushing the wagon, and Sarah was walking beside him. I was sitting on my horse.

"I think you were very nearly rude to Mr. Adams," Sarah said, turning her head.

"I was to the point, nose to know."

"You were too busy giving your own opinion than getting his," Sarah protested. We came to a small arch. Sarah and James went first. Then Wisdom and I.

"I like Sam Adams. Sam is a man of action. This is a time of action," James said.

"Hey who's that?" a voice said in the distance. James turned around immediately. Henri yelled as he went down. I swiveled my head towards the opening.

"Stay right where you are!" a man shouted in the door of a tavern. I gasped silently. The man they were talking to was the same man who Moses and I talked to this morning.

"I was looking for my shipmate," the sailor said. "I'll be on my way."

"I offered to buy you a drink," the other man said. The other men smiled nastily. The sailor shook his head.

"I don't drink."

"That it? Or you wouldn't join the toast? May Parliament rot the wretched louts!" the man exclaimed. James made a move to go join them, but Sarah caught his arm.

"Where are you going? I don't know my way around at night," she said.

"Oh alright already!"

"I don't want any trouble, just let me go about my business," the sailor said.

"You are my business," the man said. He and his buddies closed in around the poor sailor. I wanted to yell, wanted to race Wisdom, grab the man and run, but I didn't. I couldn't make my body function. All I could do was sit on my horse and watch. "I'm worried about you in this chilly night weather. You need a warm coat, on tar and feathers.

"No! Let me go!" We watched in horror as the men grabbed the sailor away into the town square where we knew he would face the tar.

"I can't believe I'm going to miss this," James said, pointing to the retreating figures.

"I can't believe you'd want to have anything to do with it," Sarah said. "If you were a gentleman, you'd put a stop to it." She turned away.

"Imagine how silly he'll look covered in tar and feathers," James continued smiling. "He'll look like a giant barn owl!" Then he started dancing like a chicken. Henri laughed, but quickly stopped when I gave him the glare from Death himself.

"Isn't that right Bridget?" James asked me. James knew I was a big patriot, but I gave him a glare from Death and Hades themselves.

"How?" I just said. I turned away and folded my arms.

We were getting the sacks of pamphlets from a tavern and giving it to a wagoneer. I barely glanced or talked to James by the cruel way he was acting.

"Isn't this more of a story than that poor unfortunate sailor?" Sarah asked.

"What's more of a story?" James said. "We're loading wagons!" I threw James the next sack and he almost lost his balance.

"These supplies are from four different colonies," Sarah continued. "That's a story! I had the impression that the colonies consider themselves separate countries." James jumped down.

"They did. Until Parliament closed Boston Harbor," James answered. "If they can do it Boston, they can do it anywhere!"

Voices carried across the grounds and flames lit the walls.

"What is it?" I called to them.

"It's the barn owl parade!" James said.

"Huh?" I asked and then I knew. It was that poor sailor being carried with feathers strewn all over his body. I gasped and turned away, into Wisdom's body. I sniffled silently. Sarah put a hand on my shoulder.

"Now that's a story. I want to see what's happening!" James said. "Bridget? Ya coming?" I turned to him, flames curling in my eyes. "Oh yes James, I'm coming. Coming _back_ in the first streak of light!"

With a protesting cry from Sarah, I ran onto the crates, jumped on the running back of Wisdom, and ran away from James's shrug as he ran too. But not away. He ran toward the mocking crowd. I left Sarah with tears in her eyes, and Henri's hurt look. Wisdom ran, and ran, and ran, until we got to Eternal Spring. I jumped down and sat on a rock, weeping.

I stayed there until the first streak of red showed in the sky. My eyes were bloodshot, never closing them, never stopping crying. Then I stayed some more until it was about nine o'clock. I probably missed Sarah and Henri leaving Philadelphia and heading to Abigail Adams. I probably missed dinner, and sleep, and breakfast. My stomach starved. I ate some blueberries and strawberries to fortify my hunger. I also just broke my promise of returning at dawn. Oh well, I'll face Moses's scolding sooner or later. Wisdom nickered and rubbed my face. I rubbed her nose. Then I climbed on my saddle and walked home.

I was right about missing Sarah and Henri when I got back to the printing shop. I heard James talking about last night.

"In large words across the top," I heard James saying, " **Hooty Hoot Gets The Boot** because he looked like a barn owl after they tarred and fea-" he stopped when the door opened and I stood there, eyes bloodshot, face pale but red.

"I'm back," I said and stomped in. I sat on the bench and drank from a cup left out. I smacked my lips and looked at it. "This is good, what is it? Cider? No it's apple juice. Still good." I looked at Moses's shocked face and James's guilty look. I felt a sense of pride. "Oh hello my good friends. What were you saying? Something about looking like a barn owl after being tarred and feathered? No, actually he looked like a snowy owl. Maybe it was a chicken? I mean the feathers were chicken feathers." I sipped from the cup.

"Bridget!" Moses said. "We were so worried about you! After you ran off, Henri was crying." My smile disappeared and I looked at the ground.

"I know," I said. "I didn't want Henri to be upset, or anybody else, but I just had to be alone. After the little ' _parade'_ last night, I had to get out." I glanced pointedly at James. Moses glanced disapprovingly too.

"Bridget," James began. "I am so so sorry about acting that way in front of you, Sarah and Henri. I know you guys are touchy about it."

"Sorry to us," I said. "Or sorry to that man who had done _nothing wrong? Who had been bullied so cruelly by people who were being unpatriotic! Who was being tortured by mocking crowds and having his life ruined!"_

My voice had risen to a half-shout, but the fight drained out of me, and I plopped back onto the bench and took another sip of apple juice. The fire steamed down in my eyes and I looked tiredly at them. James had his head bowed.

"James, remember what John Adams said about mobs," Moses said to him. James stared at Moses and seemed to have his old fire back.

"What does John Adams know about the newspaper?" James asked. "He could learn something from that author of that pamphlet that he sent me to Boston." he smiled. "Novandus. Now that man's a writer."

"Novandus _is_ John Adams," Moses explained. "It's an assuming. That means he writes under an assuming name." James's mouth opened and closed like a fish. He glanced at me, but I was too busy stuffing my face with breakfast left over for me.

" _John Adams_ wrote a government of laws not of them?" James asked. " _That's_ John Adams!" I let out a small burp and laugh sheepishly when they both look at me.

"He-he sorry," I clear my throat and drink down my entire cup. James smiles slightly. I smile tightly.

"The very one," Moses continued the subject.

"Maybe I should write a-" James started.

"A suit-o-nymph," Moses told him.

"Yeah, I'll call myself something modern," James said. "Dagger-Quill! All one word but capitalize the Q!"

I laughed lightly and James smiled. My smile quickly disappeared and his did too. He sighed and looked away.

"Shadow-Quill would be more like it," Moses said. "The lesson here, James, is not about the name, it's more about the message, and Mr. Adams is a very wise man. You could learn some examples. Now get these papers back over to Congress." He dropped the stack over's James's arms.

"Will you let me write a story about Congress in the Gazette?" James asked him.

"Only if you study the _issue_ ," Moses said. James nodded. "Learn about the men arguing the various sides."

"Deal!" James said and left. Then he ran back in. "I forgot the papers and stuff." He left; for real this time. Moses rolled his eyes in exasperation and shook his head.

"Now that you're back, why don't you tell me what you've been do-Bridget?" Moses said. "Bridget?"

But I didn't answer, for I was sitting in a chair, with my mouth open and my hand slightly holding my cup, and I was fast asleep. Moses smiled and smoothed my dark brown hair.

…

It was about 8:00 at night when James returned. I was wide awake by that time and had cooled some of my anger towards him, though I spoke in short, flat monotones.

"So what happened at Congress?" Moses inquired.

"I found the delegates at Carpenter's Hall arguing about the Intolerable Acts," James said. "One group wants to demand Parliament repeal the Intolerable Acts while the other groups want to ask the king for help."

Moses finished polishing the printing press. I looked up from reading one of my mother's letters.

"Who are the leaders?" I asked.

"The Fire-Grants," James answered. "That's what the Moderates call them: John Adams and Sam Adams.

"Write the names down," Moses said. James dipped his quill in ink and wrote them on the parchment. "Who are the moderates? Who speaks for them?"

"Our own delegation," James said. "Can you believe it? Shame on Pennsylvania. Mr. Galloway sounds as if he were a member of Parliament _himself_."

"Good job James," Moses congratulated him.

"Hear, hear," I said, raising my finger.

"Excellent report," Moses said. "You have all the facts."

"Why are you so glum?" I asked James.

"Because all they do is talk and talk," James said. "Why don't they fight it out and be done with it?"

"Let's say a prayer of thanks we have men who aren't so quick to fight," Moses said, wiping the table James was sitting at.

"The moderates won," James said, resting his head on his hand. "They're going to petition the king to fix it with Parliament. It could b weeks before there are any news! Moses, let me do a story of the sailor who got tar and feathered. That's real news; patriotic and funny!"

I coughed loudly, and the word not formed in my mouth. I cleared my throat and gave a sweet smile.

"I know where you can buy the sailor," Moses said, "and maybe you'll see how funny and patriotic it really is. Come on you two."

…...

The door opened to reveal a man with glasses and apron on. He looked weary.

"You want to ask Mr. Parker questions about the newspaper?" the man asked. So that the sailor's name, I thought.

"Yes Doctor," James said. We walked inside the room.

"He's in a great deal of pain," the doctor said. "He'll have to stay in bed for a month, maybe more." He sat at his desk.

"He's hurt bad?" James asked. "He can't be. Bridget and I saw him stand up and walk away. A noise interrupted him and we turned toward it. It was a groan of pain, and we heard it through the open bedroom.

"When a person is tarred," the doctor said, "the tar is like a pot of oil; they boil it." James gasped.

The doctor continued: "The tar goes through the man's clothes and onto his skin."

"You mean like hot candle-wax; when you peel it off and-"

"Worse," the doctor said. "When you peel the tar off, you peel the skin away. Then there's the risk of infection, which I'm afraid has already set in."

I cringed. How horrible for Mr. Parker.

"But they were patriots taking a stand," James said.

"Oh, like tar and skin peeling and pain is a patriot stand," I argued. Before he could answer, I huffed and turned my head.

"They were criminals," the doctor said. He stood up. "They used the cause to beat him and rob him of his hard earned pay."

"They were shouting slogan against Parliament," James protested, "and they were singing liberty songs."

"Did they respect Mr. Parker and his liberty?" the doctor asked. James hung his head and Moses put a hand on his shoulder. He put his other hand on my shoulder too.

"You want the real story?" the doctor inquired. "Go ask him a question."

"I-I don't think I want to," James said.

"The facts James," Moses said. "You want to be a reporter, you must have all the facts."

We walked toward the room where the groaning sounded. When we walked in, James and I gasped simultaneously in horror. My heart stopped and I grabbed James's arm in support.

Mr. Parker was laying in in bed, with bandages wrapped all over his body. Cuts, bruises and scratches were on his face, arms, chest. He was gritting his teeth in pain.

"Tears are salty," Moses said, "that adds sting to the wounds." Tears traced down the sailor's cheeks. "One tear leads to more hurt and more tears. It's a cycle of pain no man should inflict on another for any reason."

"Who is it?" Mr. Parker murmured.

"It's Moses," Moses said. "I brought the two children I mentioned earlier." I moved toward Mr. Parker.

"Hi Mr. Parker," I said. "Remember me? From this morning?"

"How could I ever forget?" he said. I smiled.

"Have you drew anything good?" I asked. "Can I have them?" Mr. Parker chuckled.

"Could James ask you a question or two?" Moses questioned. The sailor moved his head, but apparently it hurt, so tears sprung in his eyes. He nodded.

James hesitated, before asking, "is there anything I can do?"

All my anger disappeared in a puff of smoke and I squeezed his hand. Moses put his hand over James's shoulder.

….

We were back at the printing shop. Moses was washing the dishes, and I was out back grooming Wisdom. The door opened and James walked out.

"Hey Bridget," he said.

"Hey James," I said. I finished grooming and sat on a log near the woods behind the shop. He joined me and we sat in silence for a few minutes.

"Bridget," James began. "I-well I am very sorry for trying to pull you in there last night. I should've known how you feel about that. I was being full of myself."

I sighed and pulled my knee up to my chest. "I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have ran away like that. Especially when Sarah and Henri were there, Sarah being new, and Henri just 10 years old." I chuckled. "Besides, next to you, I'm the one who takes charge whenever things go awry. And that night, I ran instead of staying, which was really stupid of me."

"It's not stupid," James said. "You just never saw such a thing like that before in the Grants, or here, so you couldn't help it. Your heart's just too big."

"Oh stop it you!" I said, giving him a light punch on the arm. We laughed.

"So are we still friends?" James asked.

"We've always been friends," I said, hugging him. "Best friends. And no one can ever take that away from us. All of us." I meant Sarah and Henri too.


End file.
